


Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely

by DeanSam221B



Series: Heaven [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, M/M, POV First Person, wincest if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanSam221B/pseuds/DeanSam221B
Summary: After Carry On I want to write something, but being a sobbing mess doesn't help my writing. It is what I can pen down.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Heaven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024546
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely

You told me to always keep fighting. To carry on. I am doing that since that day. Every night I wait to sleep take me over. Every night before closing my eyes, I hope to dream, I hope to see you in my dreams. Dreams... my refuge, you know. I have your pictures all over my house. But it is my house Dean, never Home.   
The nightmares used to haunt me every time you've died - the fear of losing you used to keep me awake at nights. But this time they never came. I do relive that night everyday, yet it do not haunt me anymore, even when I relive that night - I can feel your eyes, I can taste your tears, I can smell you, I can feel your touch - they don't haunt me anymore Dean, even the memory of that fateful night soothes my aching heart - just to feel you one more time - I will bear that painful mrmory a thousand times.   
I will not pray for your return - I know I have to keep breathing. Sometimes that becomes hard. Those are the moments I desperately seek you - I look up at your pictures, but they don't call me "Sammy".  
I touch your watch, it doesn't have the warmth of yor fingers. I look around me, for anything - any single thing that can give me a little bit of you - those are the times I sit in Baby. I breathe in - it stopped smelling like you decades ago - yet I touch every inch of it with benediction - I close my eyes sitting on the driver seat...the ache doesn't stop. But I let myself cry - here in the cocoon of your Baby.  
I have to breathe - with every new sunrise - until the day comes - and I can finally go Home. 


End file.
